All Things Must Pass
by SpyKid18
Summary: Rory returns to Stars Hollow when her grandfather passes away. Based on spoilers for the potential new Gilmore Girls episodes being developed for Netflix. Eventual ROGAN.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this is in honor of that new GG we might be getting in the future! This is my take on what those glorious new episodes will be like. I read all of Rory's men will be included, so I will be doing the same here. I also will try to throw in as many GG characters as I can. If you've read my other GG stories you know I do like writing my fair share of GG characters, so they'll make an appearance eventually! Hope you enjoy this :D**

All Things Must Pass

Rory was lying in her bed reading the latest New York Times on her tablet when she got the phone call. Her coworkers always made fun of her for actually having her own subscription to the New York Times, mainly because she worked there and unlimited access to the paper was on of the very limited perks offered to staff writers. She'd had her subscription since high school, though, when her grandfather guffawed at the sheer amount of capital she put into her newspaper stand ventures each week. One week after he'd heard the startling figures, she showed up to Friday night dinner only to leave with fully paid subscriptions to the four big newspapers she frequented – The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, The Chicago Tribune, and The New York Times. She couldn't bring herself to cancel the subscription when she landed her job at the Times. It was a tie to a world that she didn't have anymore. She missed the simplicity of school. When she could actually make Friday night dinner without moving hell and high water.

When she got the call, she couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to dinner. Maybe around November? Or was that Thanksgiving? Holidays historically did not count toward the Friday night dinner count, and if holidays didn't count…

She felt light headed when she realized that she hadn't gone to Friday night dinner since August. That was five months ago.

"Rory?"

The call. She'd forgotten about the call. Her phone rang, and she answered, and her mother was on the other line telling her something that seemed impossible. It couldn't be. Her grandfather was one of those men who seemed like he could live forever. Even after the heart attack, back when she was young and Lorelai still shared her last name. She'd been scared, but a part of her didn't believe he could actually die. He was too sturdy in his bow ties and crisp Brooks Brothers button downs. He was supposed to always just be there.

"Babe, you okay?" Lorelai asked.

"Yes," Rory said automatically. "I'm fine. I…what happened?"

"It was a heart attack," Lorelai said. "Or…no…not a heart attack. It was cardiac…um, cardiac -"

"Cardiac arrest," Rory returned stiffly. She remembered Paris during medical school when she was on her cardiology rotation, reciting the different cardiac events in her measured, clinical voice.

 _Cardiac arrest. The sudden stop in effective blood circulation due to the failure of the heart to contract effectively._

"They said he didn't suffer," Lorelai offered as a paltry consolation. She could tell that even her mother didn't believe it. "So, that's good."

"I'm coming home," Rory said immediately.

"We haven't set a date for the wake yet. I can call you again with that…When I know more."

"No, I'm coming home now," Rory said, already up and off her bed. She looked around for her overnight bag, wondering how many overnights she could stuff into the green duffel bag.

"Babe, you don't need to rush out here. Your grandma and me are okay. Really."

"I should be with you," Rory held.

"You have a job. You can't just run off."

"They'll understand," Rory said off-handedly, still searching for her overnight bag. She found it stuffed behind her hamper and tossed it on her bed. Next, she needed to find some clean pajamas.

"Rory –"

"I need to do this, okay?" Rory said. "I just…I need to. Please let me do this."

Lorelai was quiet for a moment and then said, "Okay. Your grandma's staying in your room right now. She didn't want to be in the house right after."

Rory nodded. "That makes sense."

"You'll have to rough it on the couch."

"I'll manage."

"Okay, then I'll tell her you'll coming. Tell Luke to buy another canister of coffee. With three Gilmore girls under the roof we might put Maxwell House out of business."

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but it landed anyway. Rory smiled a bit and said, "I'm packing now. I should be in Stars Hollow sometime after dinner."

"Okay."

"Tell Grandma…" Rory trailed off. What do you tell a woman who just lost her husband? What words could possibly fill that void? "Tell her I love her and I'll see her soon."

"I will babe."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, babe. I can't wait to see you."

* * *

Rory drove down Route 15, hoping that the mish mosh of clothes she threw into her bag resembles something akin to outfits. At least she knew she packed her nice black shift dress. That would do for the wake, the only real time she needed a nice, suitable outfit. The other days didn't really matter.

Rory felt a pang of guilt as she pulled into Stars Hollow, the familiar sign, still robins egg blue with "Founded in 1799" in white paint, not showing the years between now and when she called Stars Hollow home. She supposed it's been a long time since she'd really thought of Stars Hollow that way. She moved to New York right after serving on Obama's campaign, and her trips back became less frequent as her job ramped up and she made friends. She put roots down in New York, and it changed her somehow. She almost resented the idleness of her hometown. The pesky neighbors and small town politics that she used to find so charming. Maybe it was because all of those pesky neighbors were now focused on her, pointing out how long it had been since her last visit. They were innocent enough with their asides, but it still made Rory feel like a target. Like she wasn't small town enough for Stars Hollow anymore.

The streets were empty now, almost as if the entire town had gone into mourning for Richard. She knew that was ridiculous, but she couldn't help but wonder where everyone was. The streets were always bustling, even in the dead of winter. She pulled up to her childhood home, parking in the driveway and taking a moment before climbing out and grabbing her bag. She was halfway up the driveway when the door opened and Lorelai came bounding out. She nearly tackled her daughter to the ground, hugging her with such force that it pushed the breath out of her.

"Thank god you are here," Lorelai said. "I am about three minutes from killing your grandmother."

Rory smiled a bit. At least some things never changed.

"She just lost her husband, Mom. Give her some slack."

"She kept asking about where random gifts she gave us over the years were," Lorelai said.

"Didn't we sell a lot of that?"

"Yes, but I can't tell her that. I still don't think she's forgiven me for trading those candelabras for the monkey lamp. So, I pretended I didn't remember what she gave us."

Rory winced. "Bad move."

"Very bad move. So, naturally, taking advantage of my supposedly horrendous memory, she has taken to making a list of every gift she has given me since I went down her very tidy Ralph Lauren stamped birth canal."

"I'm sure that's going well."

"I didn't realize how much of the stuff I sold until I saw it all in black and white. I must have made a haul over the years."

"I'll come in and help distract," Rory said decisively. As they walked toward the door Rory asked delicately, "How are you doing?"

Lorelai hesitated for a moment, a telltale sign that whatever followed was not the whole truth, and she said, "I'm doing okay. It had to happen eventually, right?"

"I guess. But that doesn't make it any easier."

Lorelai smiled sadly. "That's what Luke said."

Rory took her mother's hand and Lorelai squeezed it gently. "We're going to be okay," Rory said.

"I know we are."

Rory walked in and Emily said loudly, "Lorelai, what about those Christopher Radko ornaments I got for you and Rory a few years ago? Those were beautiful."

"Yes they were," Lorelai said tightly. "Look who I have Mom."

Emily looked up from her list and smiled brightly when she saw Rory. She stood up and opened her arms, Rory walking into them. Emily hugged like her daughter, only without quite the iron grip. She smelled just like Rory remembered, powder and Chanel No. 5.

"Hi Grandma. I'm so sorry about Grandpa. I…"

"Don't you worry about that," Emily said crisply. "Your grandfather wouldn't have wanted us moping around. You know, he was always very ashamed of how he acted when his mother died." Her voice grew tart as she added, "Not that that woman was anything to miss. But he loved her to a fault. That was the sort of man your grandfather was. He was loyal and stubborn. And he would have hated the thought of us all crying over him." Her voice cracked as she repeated, "He would have hated the very thought."

The front door opened, and Luke walked in with two large bags stained with grease.

"Perfect timing," Lorelai said, walking over and giving him a quick kiss. "Rory just came in."

"You guys shouldn't have waited for me to eat," Rory said. It was nearly eight o'clock. They must have been starving. She knew that she was.

"Your grandma wouldn't have it any other way," Lorelai said.

"That is absolutely right," Emily said. "If you are taking the time to come all the way down here, we could wait for you."

"And now the waiting is over. Let's get some food happening here," Lorelai said, heralding them all into the kitchen. It was a testament to their grandmother's presence that they didn't just eat at the living room table. Rory remembered doing that a lot growing up. More of her meals were had sitting on the carpet, back pressed against the bottom of the couch as she watched television, than at the kitchen table.

"So, Rory, how was traffic?" Luke asked. It was such a Luke question that Rory couldn't help but smile.

"Traffic was fine."

"Did you take Route 12? Because I heard when you were on the road Route 12 was all backed up."

"I was on Route 15. But, it gets pretty backed up, too. Highways are all sort of like that."

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right."

"So, Rory, tell us what you've been writing about," Emily said. "Your grandfather –" she faltered for a moment, "- he was telling me a few weeks ago about this wonderful piece you wrote on the New York Met."

Rory nodded. She remembered that Richard called to congratulate her on a wonderful piece. He did that on occasion if he really enjoyed the article or had questions. She remembered how she'd been distracted during the call, cutting the conversation off early to meet friends for drinks.

"I'm writing a piece on Carly Fiorina" Rory offered. She knew it would satisfy her grandmother's Republican leanings.

"Oh, how wonderful. What is it about?"

"It's a profile to be featured in next Sunday's paper."

Emily's expression shifted for a moment. "Next Sunday? But, you're here. Rory, you aren't jeopardizing your job by coming out here, are you? Because that is the last thing your grandfather would have wanted."

"I already interviewed her," Rory assured Emily. "I just need to write it up. I told my editor my special circumstances, and he's letting me write remotely until all of this is over."

"So, your job is secure?" Emily pressed.

"Like an old woman in a girdle," Loreial returned.

Emily clicked her tongue. "Honestly, Lorelai?"

The dinner went on much like that for the next hour. Lorelai would say something and Emily would make a show of disapproving. Rory wondered as she helped Luke clean off just how long her mother hesitated before opening her home to Emily, but was surprised when Luke told her it was her mother's idea in the first place.

"Yeah, after it happened your mom asked what I thought about your grandma staying here for a while. She said she thought it might be hard for her to be in that house."

"She didn't tell me it was her idea," Rory murmured.

Luke smiled slightly. "You know how your mom is."

Apparently, Rory didn't. Or she'd forgotten. She nodded silently, closing up one Styrofoam container filled with French fries and putting it in the refrigerator. She could hear Emily and her mother talking in the other room, their voices low. She wondered what they were talking about.

When they were finished Luke and her walked into the living room and joined Lorelai and Emily. They put on _Saturday Night Fever_ – a compromise between Lorelai's love of the 1970s and Emily's love of dance performance – and Rory pressed against the edge of the couch, her knees pulled in to her chest. Somehow, on that couch again, it simultaneously felt like old times and something entirely new. In a way it was. A family was irreparably changed when someone was lost, and the Gilmore family was not immune.

She thought of this when they all headed to bed, Lorelai and Luke going upstairs and Emily off to Rory's old bedroom. She curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her phone buzzed on the table behind her head and she reached back for it blindly, knocking over a Betty Boop ceramic figurine on her way to her phone. She reached down, picked Beet Boop up, and set it back on the couch. Her phone still buzzed, and she successfully plucked it from the table this time. Logan's number flashed on the screen. She paused for a moment before answering, her voice soft.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ace."

She hadn't heard his voice in two years, but it still made her stomach turn to goo, like melted caramel or marshmallow fluff.

"It's nice to hear your voice," she admitted, the oddness of her current circumstances making her feel oddly bold and vulnerable at the same time.

"I wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yeah, me too."

"I'm sorry about your grandpa. I heard this morning, but I didn't want to call when everyone else was."

Rory smiled a bit, turning on her side. "You are, in fact, the only person calling at –" she pulled back her phone to see the time " – 10:17 at night."

"You know me. I like to leave an impression."

"How's San Francisco?"

"I hear it's nice. I'm actually back in Hartford."

That got her attention. "You are?"

"I didn't like California. The air was weird. People kept trying to get me to hike."

"That sounds awful."

"I'm helming another start-up in Hartford. But this time we're actually doing well."

"I'm happy to hear that," Rory said genuinely. "I'm happy to hear from you. It's been too long."

"Do you know when the wake is?" Logan asked.

"I don't. I just got home a few hours ago. They haven't made any official plans yet."

"Will you let me know when you have more information? I'd like to come and pay my respects."

"Of course."

"Thank you. Alright, I'll let you go to bed now. I know how you get without proper sleep. It's not a pretty sight."

Rory felt a sudden tightness in her chest. Last night she went to sleep with two grandparents and woke up with only one. Who knew what she'd wake up to tomorrow. She reminded herself she was being ridiculous, and said, "Yeah, I should get to sleep. Thank you for calling. It was nice to hear from you."

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Night Logan."

She hung up first, holding her phone to her chest for a moment before putting it back on the table. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to come.

 **A/N: If you would like more of this PLEASE REVIEW! Spread the Gilmore Girls love! I do plan on having the tone get lighter as the story goes. So, it won't be all doom and gloom. Just a bit at the start here!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rory sat at the kitchen table, working on some edits for a piece of hers as she half-listened to Emily loudly talk on the phone in the other room. Luke was at the stove, making breakfast for the others as Lorelai pretended to help. Lorelai went to toss cheese into the pan of scrambled eggs that Luke was making, and he quickly went, "No, you don't put in it yet."

"What do you mean you don't put it in yet? It's cheese. You can put it in anytime."

"No, actually, you can't. It goes in at the end."

"But I like mine _all_ cheesy. Not just the top. I like it all cheesy. I like for the cheese and the egg to become one. Like in that Spice Girls song, Two Become One."

"I don't really think that song is about cheese," Rory chimed in from the table.

"Well, duh, but the idea is the same."

Rory wrinkled her nose. "You've just ruined cheesy scrambled eggs for me."

"Lorelai, who makes your scrambled eggs for you every morning?" Luke asked.

"That would be you, strapping husband."

"And have your cheesy eggs ever not been sufficiently cheesy?" he asked.

"No. They are always the perfect level of cheesiness."

"Good. Then stop talking about the damn cheese."

Emily walked into the kitchen, irritation practically rolling off of her Ralph Lauren covered shoulders. She was wearing one of her casual sweater sets, complete with a standard set of pearls and perfectly coifed hair. Emily was the only person Rory ever met who could look so pristine before nine in the morning.

"People are unbelievable," she scoffed. "I called St. James to reserve a time for your father's wake only to be told that they have no open times until later in the week."

"Well, mom, that's fine," Lorelai said. "I can take off of work."

"It's not about that, Lorelai," Emily sighed. "Your father was an important man. His wake cannot be on a weekday. It's a disgrace to the family. So, I asked whose wakes were being held this weekend –"

"Mom, seriously?" Lorelai said, exchanging a horrified look with Rory as she sensed where this story was heading.

"And I didn't recognize half the names they told me," Emily said dismissively. "But then they said that this Sunday at 2:00 Muffy Hobbs is being waked. Muffy Hobbs!"

Lorelai blinked rapidly. "Muffy Hobbs? You lost me here. Who's Muffy Hobbs?"

"Muffy Hobbs is a two-bit gold digger from Hicksville who has contributed nothing to this world other than a walking advertisement for her plastic surgeon. Your father gave himself entirely to his work and helping others."

Lorelai gave Emily a strange look and returned, "Helping the insurance industry, maybe. Or are you talking about my other father, Sean Penn?"

"Lorelai, your father was very philanthropic. We were on countless charity boards. Went to countless events."

"Okay, okay, you are both very philanthropic," Lorelai said quickly. "Bono has nothing on you. So, what does this have to do with Dad's wake?"

"Well, I reminded whatever idiotic intern I was speaking to on the phone about your father's legacy, and how it would reflect poorly on the funeral home if they were to wake such a distinguished man on a weekday. Naturally, he didn't understand."

"Mom, there's nothing wrong with Dad being waked on a weekday."

"I should call back and offer a donation," Emily said suddenly. "Your father and I were there for that insufferable Harold Lockport's wake last year and we both noted that some of the wallpaper looked a bit tired." She nodded, suddenly invigorated. "Yes, that should do it. How much do you think I should offer?"

"I am not helping with this," Lorelai said. "Child out of wedlock. Terrible flossing habits. I have enough to get me a one way ticket to hell, I'm not adding this."

"You know, it's probably better to go in flexible. Gives more room for negotiation. Yes, this will work. Excuse me, everyone, I have a call to make."

"Is grandma really going to bribe the funeral home to steal someone's wake?" Rory asked, hand curled around her mug of coffee.

"Yeah, I think so. Poor Muffy Hobbs."

"Poor Muffy Hobbs," Rory echoed.

"Okay, now it's time for the cheese," Luke said.

"Yes!" Lorelai said. She tossed the cheese into the pan with flair and watched Luke stir it into the eggs. Frowning, Lorelai said, "That was anticlimactic."

"Just go sit down. Breakfast's ready."

BBBBB

After finishing up some work, Rory ventured out into Stars Hollow to meet Lane for a quick lunch. They met at Luke's and sat in their usual corner table. Lane looked exhausted, having just come off of a month long tour with Hep Alien. They'd wound down considerably over the past year as all the band members had children and family took precedent. But then a year prior at an impromptu weekend gig a record producer happened to see them and offered them a record deal. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and the band jumped at it with a promise that the tour would be the only commitment taking them away from Connecticut.

"So how was the tour?" Rory asked.

"The tour was amazing," Lane said. She smiled wide and sighed, "I just love saying that. The tour was amazing. The tour was _amazing_. It's so rock and roll. And I didn't have to hide half the money this time either! No worrying about gas money. We actually ate three meals a day. Sometimes even snacks!"

"It sounds really great. You played the CBG in New York, right?"

Lane nodded. "It was probably the best night of my life."

"Don't tell Zach that."

"Oh, he knows," she returned easily. "He knew from the start that he couldn't compete with the CBG."

"Oh, well that's good. I think."

"So, what about you? How are you doing since…"

"I'm good," Rory said quickly. "It was a shock, but we're all handling it the best we can."

"How's your grandma doing?"

"Oh, she's managing. She's already working on bribing the funeral home to let her steal someone else's wake."

"So, that's a good thing?"

"Not for Muffy Hobbs," Rory returned.

"I don't exactly follow."

"Believe me, you don't want to."

"Are you seeing anyone in New York? Last time we talked I think you were dating some reporter you worked with?"

"Yeah, Daniel. We're not together anymore."

She met Daniel last year when he joined the New York Times as the newest reporter on the sports beat. They had nothing in common, which was precisely what drew her to him. She'd just ended round two of her and Jess after reconnecting in the city, and she liked how absolutely different the two men were. Despite being a writer, Daniel was the least well-read person she'd ever met. He preferred Peyton Manning to J.D. Salinger, and regularly fell asleep when she tried to make him watch Ken Burns documentaries. But there was an inexplicable attraction that sparked every time he touched her. They burned bright, and then predictably burned out, remaining friendly but distant after the breakup.

"Anyone new then?"

Rory thought of Logan's phone call earlier that week.

"No, I'm focusing on work right now. The political affairs assistant editor is retiring later this year, and I'm hoping for a promotion."

"That's so exciting."

"Yeah, I'm looking to take more responsibility there. So, we'll see. Fingers crossed."

At the counter, Kirk leaned over the person next to him, snapping a picture of the other patron's food with his flip phone. Luke stopped wiping down the counter and said, "Kirk, stop taking pictures of other people's food."

Kirk's attention was on the screen of his phone, and he murmured, "The angle's not right. Let me do one more."

"Hey, stop that," Luke said, reaching forward and prying the phone from Kirk's hand.

"That's my phone!"

Luke gestured toward the no cell phone sign behind him, which remained in place even as the iPhone practically became another human appendage. "No cell phones, Kirk."

"But-"

"Put it away Kirk."

Lane leaned forward and said, "Kirk found out recently that it's a thing to take pictures of food. He hasn't exactly caught on that it's supposed to be pictures of your own food. He's been going around snapping pictures of other people's food all week. It's driving Luke crazy."

Rory smiled. "I've really missed it here."

BBBBB

Rory went back home after her lunch with Lane and a quick (but expensive) jaunt to the book store. She could barely carry her haul into the house, breathing heavily as she dropped the stuffed shopping bag onto the couch. Emily walked into the living room and pleasantly asked, "Rory, how are you?"

"A little sore," Rory said. "But, other than that good. What about you?"

"I am relieved. It took a bit of work, but your grandfather is being waked at 2:00 this Sunday at St. James."

"That's great, grandma."

"And it only cost her a million dollars," Lorelai chimed in.

"Don't be ridiculous, Lorelai," Emily said. "It only cost $10,000. And it was money well spent."

Rory stared at her grandmother. "You spent $10,000 to have grandpa waked on Sunday?"

"Yes," Emily replied easily, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "It's perfect. Now, I just need to track down that florist we used for his mother's wake. The woman was insufferable, but she did have impeccable taste in florists."

Rory nodded. "Yes she did. I, uh, need to go make a phone call."

"For work?" Emily asked.

"No, just calling a friend. I'll be back."

Rory walked out onto her porch and settled onto the wicker couch. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Logan's number. He answered on the first ring with a proper, "Logan Huntzberger."

It stung her a bit that she wasn't in his phone anymore. He must have looked up her number earlier.

"Hi Logan. It's me. Rory."

"Ace, hi. How are you?"

"Good, good," she said. "I'm just calling to give you the information for my grandfather's wake. You said you wanted me to call you when –"

"Yeah, of course. Thanks for calling."

He sounded distracted, and she could hear a woman's voice in the background. She tried not to focus on it, although she already wondered if he was at work or at home. Neither circumstance definitively identified the woman, but one made it more telling than the other.

"Sure, um, the wake is this Sunday. 2:00 at St. James. It's in –"

"Hartford," he finished. "We actually waked my grandmother there a few years back. Good location."

"Yeah, absolutely. My grandma was insistent it happened there. And on Sunday. She actually bribed the funeral home with $10,000 to make sure it happened there and then."

"Sounds about right."

"Anyway, those are the details. So…now you know."

The unidentified woman called out, "Logan, come on, we were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Just because you run five minutes late does not mean the rest of the world does."

He chuckled, the sound noticeably warm, and murmured, "Alright, just give me a minute. I'll be right there."

"One minute," the woman said with exasperation. "I'm going to time it."

"Sorry about that," he said.

"It's fine. Go. I don't want to keep you."

"Thanks, Trina looks about one additional minute from killing me."

"Well, we don't want to keep Trina waiting," Rory said, wincing at the sarcasm heavy in her voice. She was not jealous. They hadn't seen each other in two years. She dated several guys in between then and now. She had no illusions that he hadn't done the same.

"It's less Trina and the boardroom filled with investors," Logan answered reasonably. "I swear half her job is telling me I'm running late."

"Yeah, you were never really good at reading a watch," Rory said off-handedly, her cheeks flushing at the embarrassing conclusion she'd immediately gone to at the sound of a female voice. She was extremely grateful for his lack of a visual.

"Alright, I have to go. I'll see you Sunday."

"Okay, see you then."

She hung up and tossed her phone onto the seat cushion. It was bright out, and she stretched her bare legs out into the mid-afternoon sun. Her phone rang and she picked it up, grinning when she saw Logan's name flashing on the screen.

"I thought you had a meeting to get to," she said after answering.

"I do. But, I forgot to ask, what are your dinner plans tonight?"

"Probably just takeout."

"Can I take you out for a burger or something?"

Rory ignored the way her heart slammed against her chest and said, "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Fifteen seconds," Trina chimed in. "Fourteen seconds."

"Alright, I have to go. Meet at Luke's at seven?"

'That sounds great."

"Ten seconds," Trina said.

"Okay, I really have to go now," Logan said. "See you tonight."

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed!**


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